Not Alone
by Mizu Iruka
Summary: Tag to 7.23 & 8.01. What should have been . . . Sam follows Dean into Purgatory. Oneshot.


**A/N:** I caved! I wrote a Supernatural story. I have an OCD tendency to want to fix things that went wrong (in my own opinion) in shows I watch, and the end of season 7/beginning of season 8 of Supernatural was just . . . bleh. I mean, c'mon. Why not have the boys fight there way out of purgatory together? The writers seem to feel this overwhelming need to put drama between the two of them, and it drives me mad.

So here's what should've happened. ;)

* * *

Sam had been in no-win situations before. Plenty of them. Somehow, every time though, he'd managed to fight his way through, or at the very least, had someone else to bail him out.

This time though . . .

It was a mantra, repeating in his head: _Dean is gone, you are alone. Dean is gone, you are alone. _

The building was on fire behind him. He stood in front of the Impala, prying open the door with shaking fingers.

_ Dean should be here._

The sound of sirens woke Sam up from his daze, and he slipped into the car, brushing aside the broken glass. He didn't have much, but at the very least he had the Impala, and she started for him.

Sam drove, the wind picking up the bits of broken windshield cutting his face, but he didn't slow down. Sam realized he was trembling, and couldn't stop.

He was tempted to panic. To keep on driving, and never stop. Possibly drive off of a cliff.

But Sam was logical. A year without a soul had brought that out in him. He had to stay calm. The first time he had lost Dean, even though it was Gabriel's trick, he had become a machine, brutal and heartless. The second time, he had become a drunkard who had worked to get himself killed, until following a demon into ruin. This time . . . this time, Sam promised himself that he wouldn't fall apart. Not again. Dean was dead. Death was a part of life.

But where had he gone? Sam pulled over, leaning against the seat and breathing deeply. When it came down to it, there weren't that many options.

Heaven. Hell.

If Dean was in hell, again, then Sam had to do everything possible to get him out. His brother would not go through that again, not if Sam could help it.

If Dean was in heaven . . . Sam buried his face in his hands. He would have to let Dean rest. That was it.

* * *

"Tell me everything."

Sam prowled around the edge of the devil's trap, playing with the knife. The demon, tied to a chair, growled at him.

"I won't tell you anything."

"Scared of your boss?" Sam guessed. He uncorked a bottle of holy water, absently flinging it at the demon as he paced. It howled.

"What do you want?" it hissed. "If you're trying to kill Crowley, better think again."

It was his key moment. Sam was careful. "I'm the man with nothing to lose, why not?"

The demon smirked. "That's right. The boy who is all alone."

Sam took a deep breath. If the demon had known Dean was in hell, it could have threatened to make things worse for Dean, tried to use him as leverage.

"So I guess I'll just exorcise you, then, unless you have something else to tell me?"

Its protests were weak. Sam performed a quick exorcism, using words instead of the knife. Enough people had died because of him.

He had his answer. Dean was not in hell.

* * *

Sam was nervous. The summoning ritual was almost complete, but he was terrified that regardless of how polite he would be, whatever angel showed up would strike him down. He had the angel-killing knife in his hand as he finished the prayer.

"I know who you are."

Sam whirled to find the angel observing him.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"Deborah." She walked up to him, seeming curious. Sam couldn't help glancing to his left. The circle of oil was just there. If he could get her to step inside . . . "Sam Winchester, why did you call me?"

"I just want to talk," Sam said, gingerly backing up. The angel considered him carefully.

"No one ever just wants to talk," she murmured. "But you do not seem to be lying."

"I'm not. I just need to know if Dean is in heaven."

The angel stepped into the circle unknowingly, and Sam lit it.

"There is no need for that," Deborah said mildly. "I do hope you'll let me out."

Sam shrugged apologetically. "I have no idea what heaven's up to these days. A man's got to be careful."

Deborah nodded sagely. "It has been rather messy up there. You're lucky one of Castiel's old following did not answer your summons."

"Whose side are you on?" Sam asked, setting aside the knife.

"God's."

Sam snorted, but Deborah did not say anything else.

"Dean is not in heaven."

Sam blinked, unsure whether to be happy or sad. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Then where is he?" Sam whispered to himself.

Deborah considered him calmly. "Where do you think he is?"

Sam pulled at his hair in desperation. "How am I to know? Is he really in hell? One second he's stabbed Dick Roman, the next . . . oh."

"Yes. My brethren and I believe both Dean and Castiel have been trapped in Purgatory."

Sam took several deep breaths. After a silence that lasted several minutes, Deborah stirred, looking uncomfortable.

"Could you release me?"

Sam nodded mutely, breaking the ring of holy fire with water.

"There is an eclipse in one month. I cannot do much, but if you need me, call." Sam looked at the angel in surprise. Her dark eyes were compassionate, something he had never seen in an angel before. "Good luck, Sam Winchester."

He didn't have time to say thank you before she was gone.

* * *

Sam needed the blood of a native from Purgatory, so he hunted down a Leviathan. There weren't many left-most had turned on each other, from what he could tell. Still, he managed to track one, kill it, and take its blood. He dislocated a shoulder in the process, but that was easily fixed.

The virgin blood was a little more difficult. Sam posed as a Red Cross employee and went to a Catholic school. The interviews with the girls were awkward enough to have Sam blushing, but he had to be sure.

* * *

Sam was terrified that he would release the Leviathans again with his ritual. He swallowed his pride and prayed to Deborah.

"Are you prepared?" Sam didn't turn, only nodded. Deborah stood next to him. "I cannot come with you."

"I know," Sam said quickly, "I was just hoping you could make sure nothing else gets through the portal when I go in."

"Very well." Deborah drew a sword that was almost as long as her. Sam had a fleeting thought that Deborah was the epitome of what he used to think an angel was. "If you see Castiel, tell him that God forgives him."

Sam managed a small smile. "I will."

Entering Purgatory was similar to entering the Cage with Lucifer, only a little less painful.

Sam opened his eyes and found himself on a forest floor. Startled, he sat up. He hadn't known what to expect, but he hadn't expected this.

A growl from behind him caused Sam to spin, pulling out his machete. At least he had come prepared. Dean had come with nothing.

Sam fought for his life. He didn't even know what some of the creatures were . . . the only relief was that cutting off a head tended to kill it, no matter what it was. By the time Sam managed to cut down the monsters surrounding him, he had been stabbed, choked, and bitten.

But he had managed to capture one.

He knelt in front of the vampire, breathing heavily.

"Where is my brother?" he growled.

"I won't tell you."

"Then you die. I'll just get someone else in this hole to tell me." Sam lifted his machete.

"No, no, wait, the other human, I heard some others saying he was near the river, with the angel."

"Thank you," Sam said sincerely. He cut off its head.

* * *

Once he reached the river, he began calling for Dean, not even caring what heard him.

"Sam?" He whirled, finding Castiel regarding him with vacant surprise. "How are you here?'

Sam ran towards him, ignoring any awkwardness and hugged the angel, then he backed off. "Cas! Where's Dean?"

The angel shook his head bemusedly. "Far away."

"Can you take me to him?" Sam asked. Castiel shook his head.

"I will tell him you're here. Head along the river."

"Cas, I have a message for you, from an angel. She said to tell you that God forgives you."

There was something dark and pained in Cas's eyes. "Who?"

"Deborah."

Castiel bowed his head.

Sam blinked, and Cas was gone. He set off, keeping his eyes peeled for monsters and for Dean.

A figure was kneeling by the side of the river. Sam dared to hope.

"Dean?"

As Sam watched, the figure stood, swayed, and turned towards him. It was his brother.

"Dean!" Sam pushed his tired muscles into a run. He reached his brother, arms open wide . . . and saw his eyes flicker into some pale color. He was too close, too tired, and too slow. The shape shifter had a vicious looking knife, and swung it expertly. Sam managed to turn so that the blade only caught him across his chest and right shoulder. It went deep, and Sam couldn't hold back the scream that crossed his lips.

He fell painfully onto the stones of the riverbank. The shifter pounced, raising the knife once more.

The small, optimistic part of Sam felt that Dean would jump in and save him.

The rest of him was practical, and managed to snatch the wrist of the shape shifter, twisting the knife away from his chest.

"You picked the wrong face," Sam whispered fiercely. He used his other hand to pull free the silver knife in his jacket pocket. The shape shifter's other hand was around his throat, until Sam stabbed it violently.

It would take him a while to get the image of Dean trying to kill him out of his head.

It would take even longer for him to stop feeling that he had just murdered Dean.

Sam crawled away from Dean . . . not Dean. _It wasn't Dean. _

He was limping, clutching at his bleeding shoulder, drained of energy and fight. One more vampire, and he was dead.

If he died in Purgatory, where would his soul go?

Sam could only follow the river.

* * *

He heard his brother's voice. Sam opened his eyes, trying to focus. He was on the ground. He must have collapsed. Fear shot through him. It could be a shapeshifter running towards him. Using the last of his strength, Sam whipped out his silver knife and slashed violently through the air.

"Sam?"

"Dean?" Sam slurred, his hold on his knife loosening as his eyes found Cas standing behind his brother. There was another figure as well.

He managed to push himself up, and then Dean helped him the rest of the way up, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Sam, man, I didn't think you got pulled in too."

Sam winced. Dean wasn't going to like his explanation. Thankfully, he was interrupted.

"Hate to break up this . . . whatever you two have going on, but we need to make camp."

Sam frowned at the man in distrust. "Dean, who . . ."

"I'll explain later, Sam." He turned to the other man. "Benny, you and Cas get a fire started. I need to help Sam."

Before he knew what was happening, Dean was fixing up his shoulder.

"How long?" he gasped, as Dean's fingers probed the wound.

"How long what?" his brother muttered. "I'm going to need some water . . ."

Silently, Sam handed him his flask of holy water. It wouldn't do much good in Purgatory anyway.

"How long have you been here?"

"A couple months, I think."

Sam sighed. So time moved the same in Purgatory as it did on earth. Good to know.

"Sam, have you been here the whole time?" Dean finally asked.

He shook his head, but didn't offer a further explanation. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dean's scowl, but his brother let it drop for the moment.

"That'll have to do," Dean groaned, wiping a bloody hand across his forehead.

"Thanks," Sam murmured. He glanced over at the other man. "Who is he?"

"Vampire," Dean said shortly, "name's Benny. Thinks he knows a way out of here."

"Ah," Sam said inadequately.

"Level with me, Sam. How did you get here?"

Sam sighed, lifting his uninjured arm and running his hand through his hair. "Spent the last two months figuring out where you were and then once I found out, used the ritual to get in here."

Dean looked at him in disbelief. "You didn't."

Sam smiled tightly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Why would . . . how . . . you shouldn't've . . ."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Stop talking before you hurt yourself."

Finally, it clicked, and he could see the fury running through Dean.

"You shouldn't have come here! Now I've got to worry about you stuck in this hole, and at least before I thought you were safe, but . . ."

"Yeah, you're welcome," Sam muttered. He stood, swaying slightly, and moved closer to the fire. Dean got up behind him, muttering curses, and Sam could feel his anger rolling off in waves.

"Dean says you're Benny?" Sam asked. Manners first, even if he was a vampire.

"Yeah. You're the little brother?"

He nodded in short affirmation, some small part of him keeping the knowledge that Dean hadn't wanted to forget about him as soon as he was in Purgatory.

He was here with Dean. He was not alone.

* * *

Too soon, he woke up to shouting, and sounds of fighting. Sam grabbed his machete with his left hand, and jumped into the fight. He almost forgot that Benny was on their side, and nearly took his head off, but remembered in time to tilt the machete and get the creature next to him instead.

So Purgatory was just one, gigantic bloodfest. Idly, as he sliced off the head of another shape shifter, Sam wondered what happened to the monsters who died in here. Technically they're already dead, so did they just cease to exist?

They caught a break, and the four of them stared at each other.

"So is this what it's like every day?" Sam asked after a moment.

"Pretty much," Benny said gruffly, pulling what looked like intestines off of his weapon.

"I'll be back," Cas said suddenly, and he was gone.

Sam threw Dean a questioning look, and his brother shrugged. "He does that now."

Sam could feel Dean working up to the question, and braced himself for it.

"Why, Sam? Why come down here? How could you do something so stupid?"

"Because I was scared," he finally replied, honestly, but somewhat awkwardly. They were talking in front of a stranger . . . a vampire, for crying out loud. But it had to be said.

"Of what?" The frustration vibrated through Dean's voice.

"Of being alone," Sam replied simply.

Dean didn't say anything, just moved a little closer to Sam. Sam breathed easier. They had a fight on their hands, to get out of Purgatory. But at least they had each other.


End file.
